As when I was signing copies of one of my novels and a young woman looked past me to the stack of This House of Sky and half-whispered as if thinking out loud: “I’ve got to get one of those to give to my father.” Merely making conversation, I asked why—because her father was a rancher or a Montanan? “No,” she unforgettably said in a voice so choked it brought my own heart to the top of my throat. “Because I love him.”
